


Smoke and Mirrors

by tisfan



Series: WinterIron Bingo Adventure [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Lies, M/M, Manipulation, Press and Tabloids, Spies & Secret Agents, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 13:23:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15774945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Tony’s reflection is still causing problems; this time he’s set his sights on Nat...





	Smoke and Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> For Fill "Manipulating People"

Tony hastily closed the screens he was working on, his normally bright smile down about a megawatt. “Itsy Bitsy, I hope you don’t want something, because I am so busy I can’t breathe,” Tony said. “Tell me you’ve come to take my poor, overworked self out for a coffee and a gelato, or a walk in the park and we’ll feed some fat pigeons stale bread. Something? You’re my delight and deliverance.” He shuffled some files around on his desk, seemingly carelessly scattering them.

“Uh, sure, coffee and a gelato,” Nat said, which was at least half a lie, although she had been coming down to see what the progress was on the After Incident report for Bruce’s lab accident. The initial variance issues were buried under a pile of Hulk-out, but some sort of procedural audit was necessary. “That sounds lovely. And while we’re out walking, you can tell me how things are going on the--”

“Fury will get his report in due time,” Tony said, and that was a bit sharp. “No one was hurt, aside from some _extensive_ property damage, and it’s not like SHIELD will be footing the bill. Tell him to keep his eyepatch on. I’m working on it.”

“I know you’re worried about Bruce,” Nat said, hesitating.

“You could say that,” Tony said. “ _Someone_ should be.” He hopped down from this stool and put his arm around Nat’s shoulders, drawing her in for a squeeze. He glanced back at his workstation, like he was nervous about something and it was pinging all of Nat’s warning bells, although she couldn’t for the life of her, figure out what the hell Tony was doing that wasn’t a hundred percent Tony Stark.

At least he wasn’t still angry with her about the cautionary warning she’d given him a few weeks back; he’d sulked at her for almost ten days before it seemed to fall off his awareness. She didn’t think she was wrong, either; Tony was reckless with himself and his own heart. She didn’t want to see _James_ get hurt because Tony couldn’t handle being an adult.

“Come on, come on,” Tony said, tugging her around. “Nothing to see here, it’s all boring bullshit and I want away from my workshop, to breathe fresh -- well, fresher, it is Manhattan after all -- air, and…”

Nat would never have done anything so crass as to wrinkle her brow or raise an eyebrow without being deliberate about it, but she was _curious_.

She nudged her hair out of her face, using the excuse to glance back at Tony’s desk. There was  a small pile of folders and a thumb drive laying on the surface, like it had been shoved under the files hastily as she arrived.

_Hmmmm._

***

“What the _hell_ is this?” Bucky slammed the yellow paper down on the kitchen table.

Tony glanced over the rim of his coffee cup and practically spit it out all over everything. The picture was Tony and Nat, standing in line for an ice cream, and Nat’s hand was in Tony’s back pocket. The picture wasn’t blurry, and it didn’t have all those telltales of blatant photoshop, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

The few random stories on the front page -- Reese Witherspoon in scandal with JFK’s killer’s son, and Bigfoot kept lumberjack as sex slave -- were static against the headlines. _Stark Cheating? The women (and men) he’s keeping secret!_ “Five page special report, inside the chateau in Switzerland. Is he leading on the Black Widow, or is she with him for reasons of her own? Exclusive pictures!”

“Okay, first off, I am not dicking down Nat,” Tony said. “When was this picture even _taken_?”

“What is she doing?” Clint asked, and he leaned closer to the picture until his nose was practically rubbing against the newsprint of Tony’s ass.

“She’s getting a handful of my booty,” Tony joked, because really, it was probably a picture of someone else entirely that they’d photoshopped faces onto. He couldn’t remember ever having Nat’s hand in his back pocket. He was pretty sure he’d remember that, if it happened.

Except he was pretty sure he remembered that woman with the rex cat in her purse in the coffee shop, because he’d spent a while making my precious jokes about the ugly-cute little goblin.

“Indeed,” Clint said, and he whipped out his phone, using the camera feature as a makeshift magnifying glass. “She’s not feeling you up, she’s pickpocketing you.”

Sure enough, in the fingers going into Tony’s pocket was clutched a little thumb drive. Well, that would explain why Tony hadn’t felt it, if it _had_ happened. She wouldn’t have wanted him to.

“The hell?” Tony wondered, and _he_ leaned in close. “That’s the drive with the after incident report on it. I… uh. Lost it.” He was sure he’d left it on his desk, but it was missing, and he hadn’t finished reviewing the security tapes, which had been giving some obviously false data. They showed Tony going into Bruce’s lab after hours, and that was blatantly wrong, since Tony had been at his damn engagement party at the time, multiple witnesses, so he’d been trying to break down the feed, figure out if they had a doppelganger or some sort of photostatic veil tech going on.

“What the hell?” Bucky repeated.

He had gone out with Nat a few days before, although he thought he’d left the drive on his desk, but he might have stuck it in his pocket.

But why would _Natasha_ steal it?

“Huh,” Tony said, chewing his lip. He could think of a few reasons, but none of them were good.

 ***

The reflection of Tony pulled off the photostatic veil, shaking out a wig of red hair. He tapped his fingers against keyboard, accessing the electronic security recordings. Inserting the falsified images was child’s play when he had root access.

“All too easy,” he said, laughing to himself.

This was all about to get exciting.

 


End file.
